by Corrie, Jane
Sarah scrambled out of bed and finding her shoulder bag hunted in it for her diary. Then she counted the days from the day she had known the date, when she had typed a letter for Sean. It was Thursday tomorrow! She recounted to make sure, but it came out the same.
Come hell or high water, she was going to be hanging around the canteen from early afternoon onwards. If the Park van did come, she intended to leave in it.
Surely this time her luck would change, and things would go right for her. It wasn't as if she was guilty of the crime she was being made to pay for. If there was any justice in the world, she would get away.
The first thing Sarah did the next morning was to pack her silk suit and all her belongings into her overnight case, ready to be picked up at a moment's notice, and stuff it under the bed, remembering that Sandy would bring her breakfast over later; then recalled that Sandy had gone yesterday.
In that case, Sarah told herself, she would go over to the canteen to save Mrs Pullman lugging her breakfast over. It would serve as a good excuse for her to find out if the Park van was
expected to call, and if so, at what time. It would be easier for Sarah if she knew precisely what time it would be there, but she had to be careful not to arouse Mrs Pullman's suspicions.
She went over to the canteen early. It was strange to hear no other sounds of human industry. Like a ghost town, she thought, as she entered the canteen kitchen to find Mrs Pullman just sitting down to her breakfast.
At the sight of Sarah, she frowned. 'Thought you'd have gone with Mr Cartier,' she said.
Sarah blinked, but her heart leapt joyfully. `Has he gone?' she asked.
Mrs Pullman gave her an old-fashioned look, that told Sarah that she had been perfectly right when she had suspected that Mrs Pullman was of the opinion that Sarah was chasing Sean Cartier, who it appeared had got away from her clutches. Her look said that she had seen it all before, and that no self-respecting young lady ought to throw herself at a man like that. In her opinion, Sarah had got her come-uppance; men didn't respect girls like that.
Sarah tried to look abashed, but it was difficult, for she felt as if a great weight had been taken off her shoulders. 'Where's he gone, do you know?' she asked Mrs Pullman, who had got up to get her breakfast, but Sarah motioned her to sit down again. 'Finish your breakfast. I can get mine. I only want toast,' she insisted.
Slightly mollified, Mrs Pullman did as she was bid, and poured her out a cup of tea. 'Darwin,' she said. 'Left on the last coach, early this morning. Didn't say anything about you still
being here. I'm due off myself around four,' she said, savouring the thought of time off, then she suddenly recollected Sarah's presence. 'There's plenty of stuff in the freezer, for a week or two at least. I hadn't banked on the site closing down so early, there must have been a bad forecast,' she said musingly.
`What about the maintenance staff?' asked Sarah, wondering if that was another job that Sean had in mind for her, cooking for them!
`Oh, they have a kitchen of sorts down in the social club. Mostly tinned stuff. It's not worth keeping the canteen open for them—besides,' Mrs Pullman added darkly, 'I don't want them mucking up my kitchen.'
`So there won't be a delivery of fresh fruit today?' Sarah asked idly, although she held her breath for the answer.
Mrs Pullman nodded. 'Didn't have time to cancel it,' she said. 'Still, it won't go amiss. They'll be glad enough of it down at the social club.'
Sarah let out her breath, and wondered if she dared risk carrying out a plan that had suddenly presented itself to her. If she was right about Mrs Pullman's thoughts about her, then it would work; if she wasn't, then she would be no better off than she was before.
She carefully buttered her toast, and said thoughtfully, as if speaking to herself, 'I guess it's time to move on.' She looked at Mrs Pullman. `You can't win them all, can you?' she said, and sighed. 'He could have told me he was going to Darwin,' she added, in what she hoped sounded a
pettish tone. 'So that's that. Do you think there's any chance of the Park van driver giving me a lift? No one seems to have any transport here, and as there's no more coaches leaving, I'll have to make my own arrangements.'
Mrs Pullman's look said it all. She didn't think there was much point in Sarah hanging around either, not now that she had been given the big brush-off. 'He might,' she said consideringly. 'I can't offer you a lift. My son's collecting me, and we don't go anywhere near the main routes. We'll see what he says.'
Sarah could almost smell freedom. There was no reason why the driver should refuse to give her a lift to the Park; he'd probably be glad of the company, she thought, and she could surely find other transport there to take her back to civilisation!
CHAPTER SIX
IN gratitude for Mrs Pullman's cooperation in assisting her escape, although that good lady would have been most put out had she known the reason for Sarah's over-long stay at the site, Sarah asked if there was anything she could do to help her in closing down the canteen, now that she was without Sandy's help, and her offer was accepted.
As they washed down tables and shelves, Sarah made general conversation with the manageress. She wondered why Sandy had gone the day before her aunt, and whether the decision to let Mrs Pullman go had been a sudden one, for she recalled Sandy saying that her aunt sometimes stayed on at the site.
It turned out that Sandy's boy-friend was an apprentice there, and she had gone back with him to meet his family. 'I don't know what my sister will have to say about that,' mused Mrs Pullman. `She considers Sandy's a mite too young to start courting, but she forgets how it was when we were seventeen. I was married at eighteen, and she was married at nineteen. Just as well, come to think of it,' she added, as she paused for a moment, then started polishing vigorously. Was widowed twenty years later, so was Cathy—they worked together. A storm uprooted a tree and landed it right across the road—pitch black it was.
They didn't stand a chance.' She sniffed. `There's no sense in trying to hang on to the young ones. They do what they want to do these days,' she went on, hastily changing the subject, as if she could sense Sarah's sympathy. 'It's all different these days,' she added darkly.
Sarah was certain that Mrs Pullman's thoughts were not entirely on Sandy when she made that pronouncement, and she hastily introduced another subject. Had it been a sudden decision for her to take leave?
The answer was as Sarah had thought. It had been sudden. Mrs Pullman would normally have stayed on if the big boss was still around, and it was plain that she considered that Sean Cartier had left the site for quite some time.
Sarah wasn't really convinced about this, for she felt that it would be just like him to expect her to do the cooking as well as the typing. She had complained about the figure work and the loneliness, and he would consider that more work would soon cure that.
Shortly after lunch they went their separate ways. Mrs Pullman to pack her case, and no doubt take a short nap afterwards, and Sarah to generally tidy up. Her things were already packed.
Mrs Pullman told her that the Park van could be expected any time after three, and Sara replied that she would be back at the canteen well before that, in case he was early.
When she had finished putting everything to rights in her room, she went into the small room she had used as an office, and noticed that the file
had gone, and for the first time she began to believe that Mrs Pullman had been right in assuming that Sean Cartier did not intend to return for quite some time.
As Sarah stared around her, she saw that there was not a trace of any work in the room. Even the waste paper basket had been emptied.
She drew in a long breath. Sean Cartier's decision to go to Darwin had been an overnight one. It was because of what had happened. He couldn't trust himself not to repeat his advances.
Perhaps he hoped she would escape? Her forehead creased in thought. It would be the perfect answer for him. He would know that her only wish would be to keep out of his
vicinity. He didn't really believe she was a security risk, even though he had accused her of not being very bright; she would have to be an absolute dullard if she was stupid enough to publish news of the find.
No, she mused, it was just an excuse to pay her out. Why, if she had been a real security threat, he would have warned Mrs Pullman to keep an eye on her, and he hadn't!
Sarah took a deep breath. As far as he was concerned, the game was over. She closed her eyes as a feeling of deep relief spread over her. It was over! All she had to do was to get to the National Park and beg a lift from one of the coaches or from private transport. She would prefer not to go back to Darwin, but she knew she had no choice in the matter.
In any case, it would be dark by the time they got to Darwin, and surely that was all to the
good? Not that there was a chance that she would run into Sean Cartier, he would be too busy whooping it up in some night spot to even give her a thought.
She would book in at a small hotel, and with luck, be on the first plane out and on her way home before His Lordship was awake.
In her mind's eye she saw herself striding up the steps of the Daily entrance and walking through reception, giving an idle wave to Marge at her desk, and going on through to the maze of small offices with the typewriters blazing away. She smiled, it was doubtful whether they would notice her as she made her way to the editor's office.
From then on, it would be easy. She would not go into details, her thoughts remained the same on this. The less said the better. The 'engagement' was off! This produced another smile from Sarah, and after a glance at her watch, she went back to her room and gathered up her case, then made her way to the canteen to await the Park van.
As it happened the van was early, and arrived at a quarter to three. Mrs Pullman was still in her quarters, and Sarah, anxious to be on her way, approached the driver when he got out of his van to make the delivery.
Flashing her press card at him, and giving him a smile that made him blink, Sarah asked if he'd mind giving her a lift out of the site. She had come to see Mr Cartier, she explained, and found he was on leave. Now she was stuck without transport, and could he oblige?
It was as well for Sarah that the van driver was not all that bright, for had this actually been the case, she would never have got past the gate in the first place..
As in the past, the showing of the press card did wonders. It was an open sesame to otherwise closed doors, and with a grin the driver said he would be glad to have her aboard. By the time Mrs Pullman had got to the canteen, the fruit had been delivered and the driver waiting for her signature.
There were a few bad moments for Sarah when Mrs Pullman mentioned the pass she would have to have before she got past the gates, and in dismay she could see all her hopes going up in smoke, until Mrs Pullman reminded her of the small blue plastic badge they had all been given to wear on their lapels while on the site, and after a feverish search in her shoulder bag, Sarah found hers tucked away at the bottom of her bag. Since becoming, or being forced to become a member of staff, she had not had to display the badge. That rule was confined to visitors only.
She managed to contain her feelings of utter relief as she produced the badge when they were stopped at the gate on the way out, and then waved out of the site, and she blessed Mrs Pullman for her foresight in reminding her about the badge. In her heightened state of apprehension, she might well have burst into tears when challenged for her pass, and found herself being held in custody while a few more enquiries were made, and that meant contacting the big boss—and that meant—
Sarah felt like bursting into song as they left the site behind them. She had made it! She hadn't been able to bring herself to really believe that she could do it, until now, and if Eddie had any more stories that concerned or even vaguely concerned the Bureau of Mineral Researches, he would have to consign them to someone else. Wild horses wouldn't drag her back to Sean Cartier's dominion!
She found that she had been wrong in assuming that the National Park would be at least a hundred miles from the site, because it turned out to be only thirty miles away.
In return for replying to the driver's curious questions about the life of a journalist, Sarah extracted information about the Park.
Their destination, she learned, was to be Jim Jim, a popular visiting area, not only because of its spectacular falls and great beauty, but because it catered for the tourist in providing motel accommodation.
Already the scenery was changing, she noticed, as they sped on along the Arnhem Highway, the desert-like scenery being replaced by greenery. The change was so dramatic that she had to blink once or twice to convince herself that she was not dreaming. She could see and hear the screech of the brightly coloured parakeets as they flew from tree to tree, in what was surely paradise after the aridity that reigned only twenty miles distant.
Seeing deep gorges ahead of them, Sarah was reminded of the brochure she had studied, and she asked the driver if they might spot a crocodile.
This produced a grin from the driver. 'Going to do a feature on the Park?' he asked, then said, `We might, but you'd really have to go deeper into the reserve. There's plenty of guides who can show you. You'd have to book up, of course. They're pretty busy right now, there's a last-minute rush before the wet.' His eyes scanned the horizon. 'Signs are it's not too far ahead,' he added.
Sarah had no wish to get trapped in that part of the world, and as much as she would have liked to have booked herself up for a tour, she daren't risk it. It was a bit too near a certain person's territory. All he would have to do was to go and collect her if he felt so inclined, but opportunity would be a fine thing, she told herself, and she wasn't about to allow that to happen.
As soon as they arrived at Jim Jim, after profusely thanking the driver, Sarah went to the motel and enquired about transport back to Darwin. After being asked if she had missed her coach, she had to admit that she had got private transport to the Park, but now needed to get back to Darwin under her own steam.
The receptionist was plainly of the opinion that she had come with a boy-friend, had a row, and preferred to go it alone. Sarah didn't care what she thought, as long as she could provide some sort of transport for her.
`Well, there's coach number seven,' the receptionist said. 'The driver will be in the cafe. He's due to leave in ten minutes. He didn't come in with a full quota, so he'll probably take you.'
Sarah could have hugged the receptionist, who
in a way reminded her of Mrs Pullman, a little younger, but of the same opinion as the canteen manageress. Her expression had said it all—trips of that nature should never be undertaken with someone you didn't know very well. It was just asking for trouble.
The cafe was really a part of the motel, only one had to go outside and enter by another door, and as there were only a few people in the café, it was not hard for Sarah to spot the coach driver, since he was the only one there that sported a cap with the legend 'Sunset Tours' across the front.
The name of the firm rang a bell, of course, for Sarah recalled that that had been the name of the coach that had got stuck in a rut not far from the site, and she devoutly hoped that history would not repeat itself on the way back to Darwin.
She had no trouble in securing herself a seat on the coach, and she just had time for a cup of tea before she followed the driver's tall back out of the café and to the coach lined up with others at the back of the motel.
As she settled down in the back of the coach, Sarah looked at her watch. The coach was leaving at four forty-five, and the estimated time of arrival in Darwin would be around ten o'clock. She would then have to book in for the night, and be off, with luck, on the first flight out to Sydney the next morning.
After so much activity, she was physically and mentally tired, and not long after the coach had left Jim Jim she was sound asleep.
The next thing she knew was a buzz of activity around her, that somehow got through the fog of
s
leep, and the coach driver calling out 'Darwin' for the benefit of others like Sarah, who passed the journey in sleep.
The bright lights of the terminus made her blink as she gathered her overnight case from the rack above her and sleepily followed the other passengers out of the coach.
Her feet were on the last step of the coach when she found herself caught in an embrace that knocked the wind out of her sails. 'Darling! So glad you could make it,' said a voice that Sarah had hoped never to hear again, and for a minute or so she thought she must still be dreaming, but when the voice said close to her right ear, 'You didn't think it was going to be that easy, did you?' she came down to earth with a bump.
With his hard arm around her waist, pinioning her to his side, Sean bundled her to the car park, and before she could utter a word, for she was still in shock, he had pushed her into a Land Rover, where she sat for a moment trying to get her breath back. A second later he was in the driving seat and starting the engine.
All Sarah could think of was that they were heading back to the site, back to the wilds, with no Mrs Pullman, and no one else near her but this hateful man sitting beside her.
She was beyond tears, she knew when she was beaten. What a fool she had been in thinking he would let her go as easily as that! He had had it all worked out, she thought dully.
His next words more or less confirmed this. 'I checked with the gate,' he said casually, 'I thought you might get smart. Still, it gave you a
day out, I suppose,' he added in an amused voice, then gave her a hard look. 'Didn't communicate with anyone, did you?' he asked harshly, then answered his own question. 'No, you wouldn't be that much of a fool, would you? You just wanted to get back to the bright lights, didn't you? I'm afraid that's still out for you. We're going to my place. There's no bus routes there, and no bright lights either.'
Sarah said nothing. She didn't think there could be any worse place than the site, but what he had just said showed her that there could be. Goodness only knew where they were heading now. To some shack in the wilderness, she presumed, and almost shuddered. At least she had had some privacy before. Sean must have had this place in mind all along, she thought bitterly, as she recalled his words that she would be begging him to marry her. It didn't leave much to the imagination.
